


Perfect (PewdieCry)

by MilkNPork



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: (minimal tags to prevent spoilers), Alternate Universe, M/M, Master & Servant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1422721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkNPork/pseuds/MilkNPork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've been serving their family for years, but I don't think I've ever seen that masked, young nobleman. Rumor has it that his father died early so he inherited the house early. Well, today marks the start of my service to this mysterious boy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The spacious center room was crowded with men and women that sat idly, chatting as they waited for the person they were going to serve. Some whispered rumors that the man was quite young; apparently his father died unexpectedly so he inherited the mansion early.

I tapped my foot on the marble floor impatiently. I wasn't new to this family, in fact, I've been serving them for years, right after I replaced my father who had retired and in my service, I guess you could say that I'm well-acquainted with their household, unlike most of the people here who came here for the money – they pay generously, after all.

Silence drifted and all chattering came to a halt, to be replaced by slow, rhythmic footsteps echoing in the large house as gazes searched and suits and dresses were dusted off while people composed themselves. I brushed my blonde hair away from my face, watching as the figure ascended to the center.

None of us were expecting is when he made his presence known. Honestly, I didn't know what to expect in the first place. A middle-aged noble man wearing a fake smile? Yeah, maybe… In my years of serving masters in this family, most of them were snotty rich men who wore their riches with pride.

But this one was of a younger age. Chocolate locks showed no hints of gray hair, and instead of his family's treasures, he wore… a mask. A white, porcelain mask that hid his features with a cartoonish poker face. He was short, unlike all my previous masters; hell, he must have still been in his late teens.

"Gentlemen," he spoke, and I'll admit I was caught off guard by his unexpectedly smooth and low voice. All of us stood up. "I will be orienting you in your service in this house."

"Now, in this house, there will only be three rules." He explained, scanning the faces of each one of us with that mask. "First rule: Always be on time when it comes to social gatherings, dining and sleeping hours, and your assigned chores. Failure to do so will result in a punishment that I will choose."

"Second and most important rule," he stared – or glared, I assume, but obviously I couldn't tell – at two maidens who were whispering and giggling quietly. The two blushed, staring at their feet in shame. The brunette cleared his throat to get our attention once more. "Never, I repeat, NEVER even try to peek at what is behind this mask." He tapped at the round porcelain to emphasize his point. "Or else…"

A stout-looking man raised his hand, and everyone looked at him. The master nodded in acknowledgement, so he stood up to ask a question that little did he know was a very dangerous one. "Why not, Sir?"

Nervous glances shifted to the masked man standing in front. Yet once again, nobody could read what emotion lay behind the white mask. "That's the last rule. Never question the master, which is me. You will call me Master, or Master Cry if you prefer. But of course that's not my real name."

And so the days of yet again serving a new master began.

Months passed and the maids and servants decreased. The house became less crowded and more chores were added to our lists. I, of course, remained and met other servants and made friends. Believe it or not, I also learned a lot about my mysterious master. He was somewhat of a perfectionist and a very spontaneous person, doing things when he felt like it. Just like when he suddenly asked me to be his personal servant. I was confused as to why at first, but I thought that maybe he was told about my father or something…

Despite being his personal servant though, he still refused to open up to me. I'll admit, I was very curious about what was behind the porcelain mask. What could it be that he was so ashamed of, that he had to cover his whole face, shutting it from the sight of the world? Was he scared of the judgment, or was he simply so unconfident that he couldn't come out of his isolative shell. The fact that I was one of the closest to him, one of the people who were so close to see his face, only aided to my building curiosity.

"Master," I called out, placing the tray of food down on the table beside me and knocking gently on the wooden door. Weird, he's usually already awake at this hour. "Should I leave your breakfast here?"

No answer. I gripped the doorknob, softly turning to realize it was not locked. Even with the knowledge that behind this door, he was unmasked, exposed… I guess my own curiosity got the better of me, even though I tried to tell myself that I was just "concerned" about him as a personal servant.

I peeked in his room, the familiar furniture presenting itself to me. Atop the bedside table lay a translucent red container and… his mask. The mask that hid his shame from the world, and I was about to find out what that shame was, now that no façade stopped me.

A moment of guilt came over me. Should I? Shouldn't I? Now that I think about it, I'm betraying his trust, his family's trust, and I'm ruining my father's image.

But none of that would happen if no one other than me knew about it. I mean, he's laid down on the bed, breathing evenly and clueless. I just want to satisfy my curiosity.

That's not a bad thing, right?

I stepped towards the luxurious room, sneaking towards him. After seeing his face, I could just run back outside and pretend this never happened, closing the door and locking it this time so that no other servant or maid would make the same mistake.

Soon, I found myself standing in front of his peacefully sleeping figure. Dark brown locks spread over closed eyes and complimented his pale complexion. Leaning closer, I noticed that something was dripping from one of his eyes. Are those… tears?

Is this why he's been wearing that mask: to hide his tears?

Sympathy gripped at my chest and before I knew what I was even doing, my finger found its way towards his eyelashes, stroking and wiping the liquid away.

Then he opened his eyes.

I flinched, stumbling backwards and knocking the red container towards the ground when he sat up, the liquid which I realized were actually eye fluids still running down his pale cheek as he stared at me blankly. Shivers running down my spine, I now knew why he wore that mask: to shut the horror in front of me from the world.

There was a hole on what was supposed to be his left eye.

I felt something warm and sticky cling to the tips of my fingers which were placed behind me. I turned, ever so slowly and there it was: a pale green eye staring back at me with its red fluids dripping from my fingertips.

I felt my stomach clench with sickness. I turned back to the brunette with scared eyes, immediately feeling regretful to have done this. I knew it was a bad idea but only now, as he stared at me with a threatening eye and was suddenly inches from me do I realize the danger.

"I-I thought you…" I managed to say.

"I was testing you." he revealed, knowing what I was about to ask. "I wanted to test my personal servant if he was truly trustworthy like his father."

"I-I'm sorry! That was…" Words spiraled in my head as I tried to form an excuse, or at least a coherent sentence, but my panic was having none of it. "It-It was an accident…"

"You have failed me, Felix." he cut off, bending down to pick up the eyeball and stared at it. "I was expecting a lot from you, too... Oh well."

"A-Are you going to fire me? Is that what happened with everyone else that disappeared?" I stammered.

He gave me a confused look, tipping his head innocently. "Of course not. I'm only going to punish you. Haven't you been listening to the rumors in this house? Geez, I thought you were a smart person, Felix."

My blood ran cold. What does he mean, "punished"? Moreover, rumors? I've heard of some actually, but I never really paid attention that much because, well, they're  _rumors_ , why would I believe them? And why was he bringing them up now?

"There's one spreading around that says that no one has ever left this mansion alive. The ones who 'retired' were actually punished. Though it was kind of exaggerated when they said that 'the meat we eat in this house is from the butchered people who disobeyed the rules', because my punishment is nowhere near that violent. You just go down the fire pit and it's done! Painless and instant."

Oh no. He's going to kill me. I shivered, backing away. "I'm sorry! Please, Master..."

Still, like his mask, his expression never faltered. "You were a good servant, like your father. Now, come with me."


	2. Chapter 2

I saw nothing but the black veil of darkness shrouding my vision, yet all my other senses told me everything I needed to know. As the crackling fires echoed from below, two hands gripped my shoulders firmly and there was a cold breath against the back of my neck, making me shiver in contrast to the uncomfortable warmth surrounding me. He was pushing me excruciatingly slowly, and I could feel the ground shift below my feet, from rock hard slipping to nothing. The edge slowly touched my toes, stopping when half of my feet were floating. Still, he said nothing.

I sighed raggedly in defeat, accepting what was about to come. It truly is my fault, and I deserved to be punished. I shamed my father's name; I betrayed my master's trust; and I broke a rule in this house, even though the master was clear on explaining them and even emphasizing the second rule – the one I didn't follow.

His grip on my shoulders slackened, and I leaned forward towards the heat for my punishment. He must have been surprised by my sudden surrender, because the grip once again found its strength and pulled me backwards once again.

Unmoving silence took over and I wondered confusedly why. What's happening? Why isn't he doing anything? I couldn't look back because then I'd still see pitch black. But I could still hear his deep breathing as his fingers shifted on my shoulders and his sweat dripped down the back of my neck.

"You know what? I'm letting you go."

What?

Again, he saw through my confusion. "I changed my mind. I'm giving you a second chance." Huh? But why? What made him change his mind?

As I continued to question it in my mind, he was already pulling me towards him, away from the radiating fire pit. He removed my blindfold and I was greeted by the white poker face staring back at me closely. Way too closely.

Blushing, I stumbled backwards, realizing it was a bad idea when the fire's warmth greeted my back but luckily he caught me on time, his hands catching me by my waist and pulling me with him, this time farther away from danger.

"Geez, you're so clumsy…" he commented, even chuckling slightly and I realized I've never seen him this carefree before. His hands stroked up my back, and I realized something else as well: I was still leaning towards him, my hands on his chest and his own behind me, his head nuzzled on top of mine.

I stuttered my words, pulling away in embarrassment and he let me go reluctantly. He stood tall once more, placing his hands behind him. "W-Why didn't you do it?"

"You're one of my best servants; I wouldn't want to lose someone with potential like you. So I decided to give you a lighter punishment – you will not be given tonight's dinner instead." He explained, before turning to the stairs. "Off to bed then, Felix."

"U-Uh okay…" I stammered, surprised that he actually called me by my first name – and that he actually remembered in the first place. "Um… thank you."

I excused myself, ascending the stairs when he spoke. "I trust you, okay?" I turned around, looking him in the eye. "No one will know, Master." I promised, before heading back to my room with a new resolve to not disappoint him this time.

But of course a newfound fear had silently bubbled in the back of my mind.

Even though my curiosity was still there, I never brought the topic up again, afraid that he might throw me down the fire pit for real. Why was his eye detached from its socket? What could have happened? Did he get involved in an accident?

"Felix." His voice snapped me out of my daze and I flinch slightly, looking at his mask. "Come to my room after dinner. There's something I want to talk to you about."

Oh shit. Did someone find out? I swear on my own grave, I never told anyone… I hope he's not going to hurt me. To be honest, I found myself getting nervous when we meet gazes. Well, who wouldn't be scared of a man who almost threw you into a fiery hole where many other burnt bodies lay? I know I would.

"Come in," he calls from inside. I gulped nervously, taking a deep breath and mentally preparing myself for the worst, before finally entering the room. I noticed he wasn't wearing his mask.

"Felix, I want to ask you something." He said, going straight to the point. I nodded for him to continue, my palms starting to sweat. "Do you want to know how I lost my left eye?"

Huh? Why was he asking me this? But I thought he didn't want anyone mentioning anything about his face… Where could he be going with this?

Maybe it's another test. "Um, no…" I answered, seeing through it.

"Why not?" He prodded.

I paused for a moment, thinking about the question. "Because I know it's a personal thing for Master and as a servant I have no right to go anywhere near that topic."

"You've improved." He murmured, standing up and walking to the window. "Okay. You may go."

I sigh in relief, my breath shaky as I bowed to excuse myself, my trembling body unbeknownst to myself until now.

I comforted myself with the thought that I was safe, trying to calm my restless mind and tell myself that nobody else knows, that he wasn't mad at me or anything.

But as I knocked the expensive-looking vase over, the once smooth and shiny blue shattering to small, crystalline pieces, I knew I would be wrong.

I stumbled down to the floor, my anxiety finally breaking me down as I felt shock, fear, and panic pull my adrenaline up all at once. He walked up to me, and a sense of déjà vu washed over me. Just like last time, except he might not forgive me this time.

"I-I'm so sorry!" I yelped out, backing away until I reached the wall. Terror continued to rush through my blood as the thoughts of the fire pit washed over my memory for the umpteenth time and only now, as I was trapped, like a rabbit caught in the headlights, do I realize how helpless I've become in this situation.

Still keeping silent, he reached a hand over to my face. Instincts told me to squeeze my eyes shut, brace myself for the incoming pain on my cheek, but it never came. Instead, his rough hand caressed- no, ghosted over my cheek, and he was suddenly kneeling in front of me, matching my eye-level. I halted my breathing, wide-eyed and confused.

"Why are you so afraid of me?" he questioned softly, almost as if being careful and gentle as to not break my fragile state. I  _would_  break, if he didn't say the right words.

"B-But the vase…" I couldn't answer him; I wasn't afraid of him, I was afraid of what he might do.

"I never really liked that thing anyway." He shrugged off. "But you didn't answer my question, Felix. Why? Is it because of what happened at the fire pit?"

Hell yes it was! Anyone would be scared as fuck after that. I was almost annoyed that he asked me such a thing but I chose not to say anything – he was still my master after all, and saying that I wasn't afraid would only be a blatant lie.

Sighing, he ruffles his hair in frustration, pulling the hand on my cheek away. "Look, I'm sorry about before. It-It was stupid of me, I know. Could you forgive me? Please?"

There was something about that moment of irony and… adorableness, the master begging the servant with an innocent and childlike expression that prevented me from staying mad at him. And so the feeling of fear momentarily subsided and I took the hand he offered as I was picked off from the ground and was offered a seat.

My hand still stung from the touch of his own colder ones, even as I sat on the chair facing his bed. The "nice feeling" type of sting, I mean… Wait, what?

"Look, I know I've been an arrogant bastard of a master to you and everyone else, and I deeply apologize for that. I just… I didn't exactly have a good childhood and I could use an ear, you know what I mean?"

I didn't know what to say. First, he threatened to burn me to death, then he suddenly becomes kind towards me, and now here he was, requesting that I give his problems a listen. All this change was just so overwhelming that I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to keep up; that right when I get used to this kind side of him, he would shift to a different personality again.

Then again, did any of that really matter? My master, who I pledged my loyalty to, needed me and I sure as hell won't deny him what he wanted. Yet as I pondered over it a bit more, I started to question myself. Was that really the only reason? Deep inside, I knew there was something else that drove me to follow him.

I just couldn't put my finger on what it was.

"I understand, Master. I vow to never speak of whatever you will say to anyone."

"I'm just hoping you really will keep that vow." He commented. "And loosen up, will ya? You should cut the formalities; it's just the two of us in this room anyway."

I nodded, awkwardly staring at my fingers. How was I supposed to talk to him without being formal? All my years of service, I've never been asked to do that… But then again, even I knew he was different.

"I was born with a curse," He began. "The world around me felt so imperfect, unbalanced. Everything I saw, I had to make it perfect. Even as a child, my room was completely symmetrical. I didn't know why, but I've loved symmetry ever since I was a kid."

He paused, picking up his eye from the red container I had previously knocked over. I hadn't noticed it before because I was so scared, but it was light green, unlike his right eye that was smoky blue.

"I looked at myself in the mirror one day and I realized, I was flawed myself." He continued, glaring at the green pupil. "I had what's called  _Heterochromia iridium_ , or… two different colored irises. As you can see, my right eye is cornflower blue and my left, pale green. Every single person in my family had cornflower blue eyes, so I knew my left eye was the mistake."

"And so with a spoon and a pair of scissors, I… I cut it, my vision being cut in half. It didn't even hurt at all. Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn't shock that kept the pain away, but 'it'. I started referring to my obsession with symmetry as 'it' because I truly believed it was a thing inside me. A stowaway that shouldn't be there but lives inside me."

"I went to bed feeling fulfilled. Then my mother's scream woke me up. She had seen what I had done to myself: the empty socket still dripping with red fluids down the sides of my face. She woke my father up, and after talking in their room, where I couldn't hear them, they sent a doctor to 'fix' my eye. The doctor looked surprised when he saw me too, but he checked my condition and examined the eye anyway and left. He went to talk to my parents and I remember hearing my father's faint shouting and the door slamming shut afterwards."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Apparently, they asked the doctor to fix my eye back in place. But he couldn't, of course, and my father got mad." He answered. "My father became disappointed in what I had done, how I 'ruined the family's noble name' and died with no reconciliation with me whatsoever. My mother, however, loved me for who I was. She instead showed worry in place of disappointment and protected me from the prying hands of our other relatives."

"Eventually, she had to send me away one day so she entrusted me with this mansion, using my father's death as an alibi to inherit it early. She also made me this mask." He tapped at the white poker face to emphasize his point. "She said that the world outside our secure house was full of judgment, mockery and evil. The mask, she said, would protect me from harm."

"Then, she sent me you. She said your retired father was one of the most loyal servants, so she said you were trustworthy as well, but she told me to test you to be sure. So when you failed my test…" he trailed off, glancing at me.

"I'm sorry… I-I didn't know…" My gaze fell to the floor, shame averting my gaze from his own. "I shouldn't have let my curiosity get the better of me. I would never have known how much you trusted me…"

"Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it." He comforted, sitting beside me and lightly rubbing my shoulder in reassurance. "I forgave you already. Besides that was my fault. I already told you that. And I didn't punish you anyway, right?"

Oh yeah. Which reminds me… "Why didn't you do it anyway?"

He freezes, surprised by my question. "I don't… I don't even know why myself. There was just something about you, when you brushed my tears away… I guess your sympathy got to me. And when you gave in to the punishment, even leaning forward in surrender, I thought, 'This isn't worth it. I'm throwing away the life of a person who regrets his decision and was genuinely showing sympathy for me.' I thought that… maybe you were the one who could accept me, the one I've been waiting for."

"But now you're afraid of me, maybe even mad at me… And it's all my fault." He hides his face in his hair, and I swear I saw a tear fall down to his lap. "It's okay if you do, I can understand why." His voice sounded so broken, and seeing him this way, I was far from angry at the state he was driven to.

Knowing that my selfish curiosity aided him to be driven this way did not help me from stopping the powerful guilt and sympathy gripping at my chest at all.

But it did push me to do something to comfort him. Facing the quivering man beside me, I wrapped my arms around his figure and perhaps that was all it took. All he needed was a shoulder to cry on: a friend. His arms ghosted over my body, through my waist and stopped at my back, gripping it tightly as he finally broke down and sobbed uncontrollably through my shoulder. He bawled and sniffled, his cries muffled by my suit and I hushed him, rubbing his back in reassurance while whispering softly my comforts.

Without really consulting my brain, my other hand, which lay on the bed passively, rose to Cry's head and ruffled it gently, then went down his chin. Before I knew it, his head was lifted up and I kissed his forehead lovingly and when I realized what I was doing, I pulled away, noticing that his sobs had ceased.

I waited for him to say something, or move from my arms which were still draped over his back protectively, or at least comment about something… but I got nothing. And so I decided to break the silence.

"It's okay now, I'm here for you… Don't worry about it, Cry." Then I realized I called him by his… nickname and I was about to apologize for the disrespect but he only smiled, even chuckled lightly.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days were like a routine. I would do my chores in the day like usual, chatting with other servants and maids sometimes and when dinner was done, we would all go to our own rooms to sleep. But when everyone else had fallen asleep, a gentle knock would echo in my room where I sat beside the window, waiting. Silently, I would open the door, and there he was: my master. Cry. We would sneak to his room, and he would take off his mask. Then we would talk - mostly him ranting to me while I listened and patted his shoulder in reassurance - but I was fine with that. Maybe even glad that I could help him like this.

Sometimes I would fall asleep still sitting beside him and I would wake up on his bed. When I looked over, I would see him sitting asleep on the chair beside me, awkwardly leaned forward that half of his body looked like it fell on the bed while the other half remained seated on the chair. I felt bad when it first happened, ashamed that our roles of master-servant had somehow reversed, but of course when I told him about it he just said that it was taken in return for listening to his problems. So I willed myself to walk back to my room or at the very least, sit on the chair when sleep started to catch up on me.

The vase that I broke was pretty much forgotten. Every time I tried to pay for it, he would just decline, using his position as master to his advantage. Eventually, I just gave up trying.

"Felix, could you help me bring these new furniture upstairs? Master will be mad if I don't finish all this up before lunch." I pulled myself from my stupor and looked up at Ken. He was also working here and was one of the servants I became friends with. He was actually the one who questioned Cry's mask shamelessly on the first day; I'm surprised he hadn't been fired right away.

"Uh, um... Sure, yeah." I shuffled over to him, grabbing some small sculptures laid on the table by the window. Ken went ahead upstairs and just as I was about to follow, something outside caught my attention.

Cry was outside, talking - though it seems more like he's arguing - with another nobleman who I presume was a relative. Cry stormed away angrily soon after, shutting the mansion's tall gate loudly and the man merely watched him leave, expression showing boredom. I felt a shudder as he looked up through the window where I was and looked directly at  _me_ before walking away.

I never saw Cry anywhere in the house for the whole day. Usually he'd be walking around the house like a patrol guard but today, he wasn't. And when I did catch him eating by himself on the long table, he told me to leave him alone for a while. I nodded slowly, hesitantly, confused and wanting to ask what happened, but seeing him with the mask, unmoving and without even looking me in the eye made me feel so far away from him, and I couldn't find the right words to ask him what was wrong.

I thought that maybe he'd tell me tonight like always, so I let it be for now, going about my routine. Soon, dusk quickly shifted to nighttime and as the grandfather clock tolled the stroke of midnight, I was already waiting for his arrival, facing the door as I sat on my bed.

But he never came.

An hour had passed but sleep never laid a finger on me. Probably because I was so used to staying up this late to listen to his honeyed voice venting about his problems in these hours. But more importantly, what's taking him so long? He couldn't have slept already; he could've told me-

Oh wait… He did say to leave him alone for a while, didn't he?

I facepalm and lie down the mattress, blushing at my own stupidity. Of course he wouldn't come, he said he wanted to be left alone! But… why? What happened between him and that man earlier today? What could they be arguing about?

I sat up, unable to sleep with all the questions circling my head. Maybe I should go check on him…

I found myself standing in front of his door, having a mental battle with myself just like before. But this time it wasn't out of curiosity, but more of  _worry_. And so with a deep breath, I open the door.

The room was almost pitch black if it weren't for the moonlight that shone through the curtains. Shadows lurked about the walls, sending shivers down my spine but I didn't think on it too hard because my eyes were fixated on the figure sitting by the side of the bed. I could only see the left side of his face, along with the hole that once was his left eye. I closed the door behind me. "Cry?"

"I-I thought you were asleep…" I stepped closer to him, catching a glimpse of a tear as it dropped to his lap. "What's wrong?"

When he looked up at me, I knew exactly what was wrong.

I couldn't help but gasp. "Cry, what happened? What-" The words died in my throat as I tried to understand just why he did that.

There was a hole on the right side of his face, just like his left. Except this one trickled with blood that stained the collar of his shirt.

"You know, I realized… I've been stupid." He began, his voice raspy and uneven, as if he had been crying. He stood up, stepped closer and I shivered at the sight of it up close. My stomach clenched with sickness and I tried my hardest not to throw up. "All this time, I've been criticizing the world, calling it imperfect, flawed… But now I realized, I myself was unbalanced. There was a fucking hole on the left side of my face, but not on the right." He clutched the remnants of his face, letting the blood smear his fingers. "But it's fixed now, so don't worry about it, Felix."

Somehow managing to snap out of my daze, I stomped to the bathroom, looking for the medical supplies much to his protest. He couldn't really do anything now that he was blind, anyway. Fortunately, I found some bandages and a first aid kit in the drawer and so I quickly went back to Cry, who still sat on the side of the bed, seemingly staring at his feet as his head hung low, almost as if in shame. I knelt in front of him, lifting his chin to better treat the… wound.

For a normal person, this would have been an experience taken right from a horror film: wiping blood that dripped down an eyeless man… but I wasn't scared of him anymore; I was scared  _for_  him. I was scared that this obsession of his would get out of hand and cause him to do other things that could hurt him more. I was scared, because…

Because I care for him, and he's special.

What's the point of denying it now, anyway? I realized that it was the reason for everything: why I was eager to talk to him every night and when he stopped I couldn't sleep, why I wasn't like this with my other masters, why it felt so right, so  _perfect_  to hold him as he cried and to place a comforting kiss on his forehead… It was all for him.

Yet he stayed silent, blank expression plastered on his face just like his mask, especially now, he had no eyes I could search for any emotion in. For a moment, I considered speaking but with him being so unreadable right now, I wasn't sure what response I would get. But I had to make sure.

"Hey, talk to me. What's on your mind?"

Still, silent. After all we'd been through, all those nights he broke down in front of me, why wouldn't he open up to me now? I felt annoyance prick at my nerves. After all I'd done for him, he chose to shut me out now? "Fine, be that way. You're welcome."

I stood up, placing the medical supplies back into the kit, slamming it shut and leaving it on the bedside table. I had finished treating his eye anyway, except for the bandages but his left eye was never bandaged, so I assumed he didn't want to. I stomped towards the door, admittedly slowing down in case he was finally going to say something. He was a last minute type of person anyway, just like back in the fire pit.

He did speak, and I stopped by the door, glaring at him over my shoulder even though I knew he couldn't see it. "A relative of mine came this morning…"

_A nobleman is seen exiting his car and approaching the gate, hands in his pocket and a cigarette on the side of his mouth. He has brown hair like Cry, but his is ashen and littered with gray hair, and it had a green bandanna below it, just above his forehead. He has narrowed judging eyes that glared at the masked man approaching him furiously._

_"What are you doing here, Snake?" The smaller brunette demanded with a glare hidden by the mask._

_"I came to give you good news." He said, placing the cigarette in between his fingers. He had a deep voice just like Cry, except his was so low that his voice sounded almost raspy. Cry folded his arms, waiting for the said news. "Your mother is dead."_

_The younger man was silent, as if he couldn't process what the other had just said. Backing away, he pointed a finger at Snake. "No… That's bullshit! You-You're lying!"_

_Snake kept composed, calm in contrast to Cry's breaking soul. "Face it. You're going back to your dead parents' house, and this mansion will be mine. You have a week to cry about it, Cry."_

_He was at a loss for words, emotions spiraling in his head. What was he supposed to say? There was anger that ignited in his eyes, anger for his relatives that kept making his life hell; then there was sadness, sadness for his beloved mother's death. She was always there for him and even when she sent him to the mansion she gave her the mask and Felix to protect him. And there was also sadness in leaving the mansion he learned to love, especially Felix behind._

_Not wanting to break down in front of the judgmental man who surely would mock him more if he did, he stormed away, feigning anger when the tears were already threatening to fall down his eyes._

"I looked at myself in the mirror, not knowing what to do, who to blame, and what went wrong. Then I looked up, and I saw what exactly went wrong. There was a hole on the left side of my face… but not on the right. I still wasn't perfect,  _it_  wasn't done yet. But even after blinding myself, I realized it didn't change the fact that I was losing everything: my father's respect, my mother, this house… even you."

"Hey, I'm still here, aren't I…?" I questioned, going back to his side and rubbing his arms in a pathetic attempt to comfort him.

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I have to leave this house. You'll be serving Snake from now on."

"What are you saying? Can't I follow you there?" My grip on his shoulders tightened as I tried to search for a way. He-He couldn't do this, he couldn't leave me behind!

"The pay here is thrice what you'll get from me. Besides, why would you still want to help me? Can't you see how I've turned into such a beast because of this… this mistake, this-"

"Cry, stop!" I snapped, stopping him mid-sentence. "I promised I'd help you, be by your side… so I'll help you get by without your eyes. Did you really think I cared about what you looked like?" That shut him up. I took a deep breath.

"You're perfect to me, Cry."

His eyebrows rose in surprise, and he seemed to stammer, only managing a flushed "Why?" in response.

I assumed that he was wondering why I would go to such an extent to help him. But deciding that no words could describe it, I leaned forward, capturing his lips with mine in a surprise confession. He flinched, not expecting it at all.

Pulling away, I smiled at him; even though I knew he couldn't see it, I knew he could feel it in the warmth of my palms that clasped his own and fit perfectly alongside it.

And from that moment onward, I decided that not only will I help Cry get by, but I would protect him from everything that tried to hurt him: his relatives, his own obsession, even from myself if I had to.

"I love you too, Felix."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are only 3 chapters that I've finished writing at the moment. I'll update when I finish Chapter 4. And I'm not sure if Chapter 4 is really the last; I only assigned 4 as the number of chapters temporarily.


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